ASKING PA.

Globe, Volume VIII, Issue 909, 24 May 1877, Page 3

ASKING PA.

{Danbury News.)

However much nerve a young man must possess before he can ask a lady to become his wife, it certainly requires more for him to work himself up to that pitch where he can unblushingly ask her father for his consent in the matter. Some girl’s are willing to help their lover out when they get as far along in the courtship as this, while others are too timid to even mention the subject in the old gentleman’sjpresence. Young Hugby’s girl was of this turn of mind She had declared her love for him, and had promised to become his bride, but first he must ask her pa. The roses came and faded and died ; the fall with its dead leaves and bull Logs, passed away a number of times before Bngby could make up his mind to look his father-in-law to be, square in the face and say, £ are you willing. ’ One Sunday night, last summer, Bugby was drawing near the abode of his affianced, when he saw her father seated under a cherry in the yard, What better opportunity would ever present itself? He thought to himself, none. He turned about and walked around the square just as a man who has a tooth to be extracted will walk rapidly by the dentist’s, a number of times before he ventures in. Bugby’s head grew first hot and then cold, as he thought of the fearful undertaking before him. He reached the garden gate and entered. He had passed through that gate many times before, but he never felt as he did now. Nor was the feeling imaginary, it was terribly real. With a trembling step and giddy brain he approached to within ten feet of where the old gentleman was seated and gasped, ‘ Please sir.’

The person addressed made no response. If a force-pump of forty-horse power had been injecting hot blood into his head it could not have felt worse. He moved forward about two inches.

‘ Please sir, I—lI —’ this was as far as he got, for his tongue seemed to be about as thick as an Arctic over-shoe.

The party addressed did not seem to move a muscle, but everything else was swimming about promiscuously. Bugby moistened his feverish lips with his tongue and then began where ho left off, * I love yo ’ He could proceed no farther. If that little word love had been a green apple lodged in his throat, it could not have come any nearer choking him It stuck there almost as solid as though it was a lump of cold glue. He wished in his heart that he hadn’t undertaken the task, but there he was and no power of himself to get away. He was about to speak again when his heart gave such a thump against his vest that it frightened the hat off his head. Composing himself a little be began at the beginning. ‘ Please sir, I love your daughter, and —’ This was about one-third of what he had to say, but it seemed far less, there was so much remaining. It was now getting to be quite dark. The old gentleman’s indifference made Bugby more desperate, and he determined to finish what he had to say, come life or death.

‘ Please sir, I love your daughter, and wish to make her my wife* Do you give your consent ? ’ and with the question he rushed forward, as>d flung himself on his knees before the old gentleman. Just then a gust of wind shook the tree, and the old gen , flema ) n ) which proved to be a scarecrow' placed there to frighten away the robins, fell over on Bugby aud tipped him into the mud. Bugby is still unmarried.